Ivan

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Originally uploaded by Erica the Ninja

This is Ivan. Ivan is the doggie next door, and he is crabby right now. Ivan has allergies and they make him not feel so hot and so he takes it out on me by not wanting to play. Can somebody please make the pollen go away so that Ivan will play with me?

Seriously, I think I have an animal problem....I love them more than people most of the time. Dogs, cats, pigeons, chinchillas, you name it. They are all my friends. Maybe it was growing up on a ranch, or maybe it is the mother instinct inherent in most women, but damn, I fall in love with just about everything that moves. Do they have therapy for these kinds of things?

Case in point:

The Aikido school where I train here in Boston is on the second story, and when it gets anywhere in the vicinity of 70 degrees outside, all the doors and windows have to come open or we run the risk of steaming like little ninja dumplings in our little white gis. Not a pretty picture.

Yesterday it was warm, and because I was thinking ahead, I strategically positioned myself near the door so that I could catch a little breeze while I trained. My partner and I had been working on a technique for about ten minutes when I noticed that he had some weirdness going on on the back of his gi (I noticed this while I was flying through the air. Don't ask me how). Upon further investigation, I saw that the "weirdness" was actually a ladybug clinging on to him for dear life. Poor thing. One wing was already gone, and the other had seen better days. I tried to scoop her up, but she just fell to the mat, struggling to move somewhere (anywhere) but where my hands were. I had nothing to scoop her up with, so it took me a few minutes to get her to hold on to my hand so I could take her outside. My heart was breaking for this poor stupid bug that was probably going to die soon (healthy or not) anyway. My teacher was not impressed. "What, are you going to have a funeral for it too?", implying that I was wasting my (and my partner's) time fiddling around with the bug.

I brought her outside and set her down in the safest place I could find and went back in to train,but all I wanted to do was cry for the poor ladybug with the torn wings.I honestly had to force myself not to CRY OVER A BUG. I mean, does anyone else have this problem? Who the hell cries over a bug? Seriously.

I do.

I went back after class and she was gone. She probably fell to her doom, soon to be picked off by some bird or swept into the gutter or something. I am not unrealistic. That is life...it begins, it runs its course and then it ends. I was hoping that I could re-write the ending for this little bug, though. Maybe a whole swarm of her friends who were searching for her after she went missing descended upon her and gently lifted her up because she could not fly. Maybe they medivaced her back to their home base so that she could recuperate in peace in the company of other ladybugs (women are thoughtful like that). Maybe they nursed her back to health, and she lived a long, happy life in the company of friends. And maybe she died in peace, at home, when it was time.

(Dude, I said I had an animal problem. Didn't you listen?)